You Never Believed in Santa?
by CSIBradley
Summary: What if for one moment, Maura believed?


Merry Christmas!

* * *

It was a Rizzoli tradition, dinner and presents on Christmas Eve, followed by midnight Mass, then home and straight to bed for Santa. Even as the years progressed and the three dark-haired Rizzoli's gradually discovered the true meaning of Christmas and that Santa was the "Spirit of giving," their excitement for family and the traditions the holiday season brought, never waned. And now that Tommy had TJ, the Christmas season stirred a little extra joy in the three and their mother this year.

"We're going to do it right," Angela promised a month ago after Thanksgiving dinner. "Those who are considered family are invited," she told everyone as her two eldest began clearing the table.

"Why not start a new tradition and have it here," Maura offered. "There's more than enough space and I've always wanted a Picea pungens to decorate."

And like that, it was settled.

The clan spent the next month tree hunting, gift shopping, tinsel trimming, light hanging, present wrapping, snow shoveling, and seasons greetings all about Dr. Isles's home. Their secret Santa exchange would be implemented the following years, they agreed, due to the inevitable expansion of friends and family to invite.

Christmas Eve dinner was magnificent, everything was fresh and healthy, except for the cheesy potatoes, the chocolate cheesecake, and chocolate covered bacon, with plenty to go around. Coffee and tea finished the meal and transitioned everyone to the living room to open gifts, all of which sat under a brilliantly chosen and decorated blue spruce. All eyes watched the young child pick and grab at the many brightly wrapped packages that sat before him. Many expressions of "Oo's" and "Ah's" mingled with the gratitude that danced about the air. A chess tournament broke out among the adults, with Jane and Tommy making it to the championship round before Jo Friday decided to make an appearance, taking interest in Jane's chocolate scented Rook.

As the clock grew closer to the tolling hour, everyone donned on their coats, dressed in their best attire, and headed to the car. At church, they took up an entire pew. They were stopped by many 'thanks and blessings' from the parishioners, and by those who wanted to see the new sleeping babe.

Once they returned and seconds were devoured, blankets and pillows turned the living room into a giant bedroom, where everyone lingered to hear Rondo's rendition of "Twas the Night Before Christmas," which deviated slightly from the traditional text. "Poetic license," was his justification. They hung their stockings along the mantle before all retired to their respected places, some home, others the guest house and room.

It was in those minutes as Jane removed the sugar from her teeth and readied her side of the bed for slumber did she discover the lack of belief from her blonde counterpart.

"You never believed in Santa?" Jane pulled back the covers to Maura's bed.

"My parents were realistic," Maura replied.

Jane pulled the covers over herself.

"You didn't wake up Christmas morning full of excitement to see if some holly-jolly, full-bearded man in a red suit ate your cookies and left you presents?" Jane asked as she stared at the ceiling.

"No," Maura shrugged nonchalantly, pulling her covers down. "We had breakfast and I was given a few gifts. We discuss the history of Saint Nicholas and what he represented." She turned off the bedside lamp, crawling into bed.

"Can we just make sure we don't tell TJ until he's like 12?" Jane inquired.

"I think 7 would be more appropriate, earlier cases of bullying start with the belief or rebuttal of mythical entities, the older one is when holding unto the belief the more severe the teasing."

There was a long silence.

"I'm sorry if that dampened the mood, that wasn't my intension," Maura offered.

"Don't say 'damp,' in any form," Jane replied.

"What about moist?"

"Don't even."

The two laughed.

"Merry Christmas, Jane," Maura said softly.

"Merry Christmas, Maura," the brunette replied.

Maura rolled away and soon fell asleep, while the woman beside her rolled her lip in thought, "_How does it feel to have never believed."_

* * *

In the morning hours, everyone awoke to the smell of bunny pancakes and leftovers from dinner. Coffee and espresso filled cups and mugs, as those who remained in the house gathered to see what Santa had brought.

As Jane pressed aside her stocking, which contained a blouse and a gift card to a shop she liked, she waited patiently as Maura investigated her oversized sock. She sipped her coffee and smiled as the blonde removed her items and thanked her and her mother.

"Thank Santa," Angela winked.

Jane smiled and took another sip.

A series of knocks rattled the door. Maura rose and answered, expecting to see a familiar face. She was slightly puzzled by the boyish smile and rosy cheeks that greeted her.

"Maura Isles?" the young man asked.

"Yes?"

He held out a brown box and gave a sincere apology.

"He sends his pardons, backtracking isn't his specialty."

As Maura took the package, the man tipped his hat and disappeared from the porch.

As she closed the door, holding the package cautiously, the clan turned to her.

"What is it?"Angela asked.

Carefully, Maura set the package on the hall table and peeled the brown wrapping away slowly, giving way to a cedar box. Her heart jumped into her throat.

"What is it Maura?" Frankie asked.

Running her thumb over the box, she read the beautifully written calligraphy. **_May the belief arise in time than never at all._** She held her breath and opened it. Tears immediately sprang into her eyes.

Inside were the assortment of European chocolates she had once secretly asked Santa to bring in hopes of proving her parents wrong.

"Maura?" Angela called.

Jane smiled into her mug as a text message buzzed through her phone in the other room.

_Snowman: Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night._


End file.
